


Recreate Us

by wordswordswords7



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Best Friends Stevie Budd & David Rose, Best Friends Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Engagement, Missing Scene, Stevie Budd Has Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswordswords7/pseuds/wordswordswords7
Summary: Patrick has a question for Stevie and Stevie has...feelings. Well, not if she can help it.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Stevie Budd, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 7
Kudos: 146





	Recreate Us

**Author's Note:**

> A short little one-shot for these two best buds.

If she thinks about it too hard for too long, this uncomfortably warm feeling usually shifts into a familiar sense of detachment. Like her mind is shutting down to keep the feelings out. Because right now, Patrick has lured her to The Wobbly Elm under false pretences and is forcing Stevie to answer unpleasant questions like how did she manage to get _two_ best friends, and how did she let one of them blindside her?

God, it fucking feels so grade school to even say it like that— _best friends._ What’s next, matching beaded bracelets and hair braiding during slumber parties? Shit, David has totally french-braided her hair while they were high, but does it really count if she always kicks him out at the end of the night? Or at least means to…?

Fuck.

And now, here’s the _other one_ staring at her with eyes that say more than Stevie’s mouth ever does (and that certainly never stoop as low), waiting for her to...fuck.

“Stevie?” Patrick leans forward a little, those wide eyes pinching with something like worry. “Please say something, cause if you don’t soon I’m gonna start freaking out.”

She swallows, waiting for the detachment but it’s not coming. So she falls back on the only other defence mechanism she has. Deflection with dry, trolling wit.

“I won’t take anything less than three goats and 40% of the Apothecary for him.”

The bargain, dryly delivered and punctuated by her expressionless face, is enough to throw Patrick for a loop.

“I– three what?”

“I mean, normally the details would be Mr Rose’s prerogative,” she continues, ignoring her sweating palms and dry mouth because she loves this idiot but she’ll never say that out loud. “But if you insist on going the non-traditional route by asking _me_ for _my_ blessing, a girl’s gotta make a profit.”

Patrick is evidently having a hard time catching up, which is unusual for him but Stevie thinks he deserves it for catching her off guard and fishing for sincerity after only one drink. “Did you say _goats?_ ”

“Fine, Brewer,” she tips her beer back for one last pull. “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll accept two goats and 30% of the business. But only because I can actually make money off the Love Room once you marry him and take his wardrobe with you.”

She’s trying to be some kind of nonchalant but her voice cracks when she says the word “marry”. The bewildered look that Patrick is giving her subtly shifts into one of...something gross and _happy,_ and it somehow only happens in his big dumb eyes while the rest of his face is serious.

“I think I can manage that,” he says softly.

Which is just way too much. Because her two friends, her two _best friends,_ are gonna get married and everything is going to change. Or maybe Patrick including her in this decision means that nothing will, not really. Maybe they'll still be Patrick and David (and Stevie). Just remoulded, rebuilt, and recreated with a new sense of permanence and a more structurally sound foundation that she'll be able to stand on too. Not so different from now, just better. Stevie stares down at the velvet box of gold rings sitting between them on the bar table. They’re going to get married, and she knows no two people that have ever been so in love and so deserving of a future together. And she loves them, the morons.

“You’re getting the next round,” she says abruptly, and no her voice is _not_ thick and her eyes are _not_ burning. “And I get to plan the bachelor party or no blessing for you.”

Patrick reaches across the table to touch her hand so briefly that she can’t protest, and closes the jewellery box to tuck it safely away in his satchel.

“Deal.”


End file.
